


Last Respite

by SenseWhatSense



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Angst?, Drama, Gen, Historical, Historical Hetalia, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, It's March 1938, Kinda dark?, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-World War II, Slight Historical Inaccuracy, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16568285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenseWhatSense/pseuds/SenseWhatSense
Summary: His time was running out and he knew. It was almost funny, really. A few years ago he had prayed for this day to come, had wished for nothing more dearly than the end of this farce he begrudgingly called his life. Of course his prayers had to be answered just after he changed his mind. Silently he wondered if the Lord was laughing at him right now. He probably was. Well, in a few days he might be able to give him a piece of his mind in person at least...----------According to a newspaper he picked up on his way, their postponed election would be held in a month after all, so he supposed that was his last respite right there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I redid this chapter, as well as the others that were already posted over at ff.net. I’m still not happy with them, but I like them better now. 
> 
> While this story is generally meant to be more or less historically accurate, there will probably be some leeway here or there for the sake of the plot. 
> 
> Also, as it says in the tags, it's an AU, or at least I'm pertty sure it counts as one. It certainly doesn't have much to do with canon, anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roderich is going to lose his country, he might die and things are generally glum. Also, there's music.

**I**

His time was running out and he knew. It was almost funny, really. A few years ago he had prayed for this day to come, had wished for nothing more dearly than the end of this farce he begrudgingly called his life. Of course his prayers had to be answered just after he changed his mind. Silently he wondered if the Lord was laughing at him right now. He probably was. Well, in a few days he might be able to give him a piece of his mind in person at least...

Roderich Edelstein, personification of Austria, was forcefully ripped from his thoughts by a door slamming shut behind him. He had been pacing up and down his office at the Hofburg, fidgeting with a violin bow as he did so, for a good while now. When he turned around he found himself looking at the frustrated figure of his president. The man looked like he desperately needed a drink, and Roderich could hardly blame him. All of them were about ready to down a few bottles of Vodka by now, if they were being honest.

"So I take it Italy won't be helping us then?," Roderich decided to ask when his boss didn't say anything. Not that he couldn't have guessed the answer already. Italy had pretty much ditched them years ago after all, even though Feliciano, bless his soul, had tried to prevent it.

Miklas just shook his head with a grave expression, and Roderich almost felt bad for him. Almost. They had never gotten along too well and it was no secret they didn't like each other. If he was being honest, he didn't like most of his government, but this was not the time for infighting. There were important things at stake right now, more important than their comparatively petty disagreements.

His president told him they would try to call France and Britain, who were technically allies of theirs too. Roderich couldn't stop himself from snorting at that. If that was their best bet, they really were lost. Usually, his boss would have at least glared at him for doing something like that, but now the man just sighed. This situation was entirely hopeless, wasn't it? At least, Roderich guessed, they could say that they tried. That ought to count for something, right?

 

 

He left the building soon after that at his bosses suggestion. There was nothing left to do for him right now but wait and pacing up and down in his office wasn't going to help anyone. So he might as well get some fresh air. Or at least so Miklas had said. Roderich doubted that fresh air was going to improve his mood, but he complied anyway. It wasn't as if it mattered, anyway. By now Germany had given them four hours to essentially surrender. And they would, Roderich knew. They all knew. It had been obvious for a while that their days were numbered, no matter how desperately his bosses may have tried to change that.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down at a close by park bench, hugging his violin towards his chest like some foolish child hiding from monsters behind a stuffed bear. Absent-mindedly he watched the people passing by him. His people, he thought, whether or not anybody else agreed with him on that. No matter what Germany or France or anybody else, even they themselves, may claim, as far as he was concerned they were his people. They had been for centuries and would be until his final breath, for better or for worse, and nothing would ever change that.

Of course, that hadn’t done him or them any good before, and it certainly wouldn’t once Germany got his way. As he watched his people, he couldn’t help but see them in his mind, ripped from his hands and torn apart even more than they had already been before. A part of him wondered if he would have a chance to get them back. Probably not. Once the plans Germany had rambled on about to him in the past were put into action, he should simply cease to be.

Roderich wasn't a fool after all, despite what some of the other nations may think, and he knew perfectly well that this unity Germany kept enthusiastically talking about whenever they met ought to be a death sentence for him. After all, if all German peoples were united as one, and Austria gone for good, there would be no need for him any more, would there, or for any of the other states for that matter. Not that Roderich cared much for most of the other German nations, with the exception maybe of Bavaria. But he didn't want them to die either, nor did he want to die himself any longer. Of course, Germany wouldn't get that into his thick skull, or if he did he was hiding it well.

Sometimes he wondered if Germany even realised what he was doing. After all, the nation was barely more than a child at the end of the day. Not that it really mattered, he supposed. Germany wasn't going to stray from his orders, whatever he may personally think of the matter.

And Roderich would have to watch his people be suffocated in a cultureless abyss, wandering a world void of beauty and art. It almost made him hope that he really would just cease to be. His own bosses laws were already driving him mad enough as it was, and Germany's would be so much worse if the news from across the border were anything to go by. As far as Roderich was concerned that was the worst part about all this, worse even than what would, one way or another, be his doom.

He really did try to think of a way out, too. All of them had, with varying levels of commitment. But his bosses weren't exactly beacons of sanity, calm and competence and if he had to be honest he hadn’t been fairing much better recently. Another sigh escaped him as he thought, with a strange feeling of relieve, almost, that tomorrow it would finally all be over, at least.

Not for the first time Roderich found himself wondering what was going to happen to him once Austria was gone. The obvious answer was that he would simply cease to be, probably once his people no longer stood by him. It was certainly what most of the other nations believed. Just, he had never quite seemed to act as expected from a nation, for better or for worse. He knew that some of the other nations thought that something was seriously wrong with him. Once, it had bothered him immensely, but in time he had come to almost appreciate it, in a way. And maybe, tomorrow, it might just save his life.

 

 

Unsurprisingly, neither France nor Britain were available. Roderich had even attempted to call both their personifications personally, but to no avail. Not that he was at all surprised by that, but they could have at least had the decency to speak to him. As it was, France had hung up on him without saying a word and England had told him, in as many words, that he was on his own before hanging up as well. Roderich hadn’t even been able to finish a single sentence in either case.

  
Either way, they were officially on their own now, and Roderich was in an even worse mood than he had already been in earlier. With a sense of resignation he watched as first Miklas and soon after Schuschnigg stepped down, leaving them to their fate. He didn’t bother to stay for the official announcements or introduce himself to his new Chancellor to be before heading home.

He spent the rest of the evening at the State Opera instead, chatting with some of his friends and acquaintances there. It was a pleasant enough distraction, but it couldn’t quite lift his mood as much as it usually did. His thoughts kept returning to the fact that they were about to lose a lot of good artists and supporters, he just knew they would, and from some of his friends expressions they knew too. It should be a crime, Roderich thought, to deny somebody access to music and art.

When he finally left, it was late in the evening, but the whole country still seemed up and about. As he walked home, Roderich watched in a sort of daze as people hurried past him, suitcases in hand while the first police men were starting to don a Swastika on their uniforms. It wasn’t a long walk from the opera to his home by any means, but today it seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

By the time he arrived at the apartment he had bought in the First District a long time ago, there was a strange ringing in his ears and his mind felt almost clouded. For a long while, he stared out of the living room window, looking at nothing in particular down on the street. Despite the time, the streets were still busy. At some point, some of them seemed to have aquired torches or something of that sort, and he absent-mindedly hoped they weren’t about to damage something valuable.

He was tired and oddly exhausted by the time he managed to tear himself away from the window, but he didn’t want to go to sleep. Instead, he found himself walking to the music room, sitting down by his piano. For a moment he just sat there, body unmoving and mind devoid of all thoughts as he stared at the instrument. Then, without really putting much conscious thought into it, his fingers began to move across the tiles. Soon the melodies of Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy, Bach and many more rang through the empty apartment.

It was a colourful mix of music he played that night, sombre and happy, fast and slow, wild and gentle. An homage to the men he admired so, Roderich thought to himself at some point, while he still had the chance. And so he played and kept on playing even as his fingers began to hurt and his grew heavy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roderich has an enjoyable day out with a human friend of his, acts nothing like a proper nation, and almost manages to forget the mess surrounding them.

**II**

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because he awoke early the next morning slumped over the keys of his piano. With a frown he got up and went to the kitchen, staring wearily at the food in his cupboard. He didn't really feel like eating, but he hadn’t had a proper dinner last night either, so he should probably at least give it a try.

In the end, Roderich managed to force down a piece of bread with honey and some water, before heading to the bathroom to get himself somewhat presentable again. He was even still wearing yesterdays clothes, which was entirely unacceptable. If he was going to meet his end, he should at least look halfway decent as he did so. Make for a pretty corpse, and all that. When he returned to the kitchen some time later, it was still way too early for his liking. He wasn’t what one would call a morning person at the best of times, and sleeping in the position he had wasn’t exactly helping the matter.

For a while he glared at the clock, unsure of what to do with himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t have places to be, to the contrary he should have introduced himself to his new boss by now and Germany would no doubt expect him at the Hofburg for a meeting soon. He just really didn’t want to deal with either of those things whatsoever.

For a moment, he thought of simply hiding away in his music room until Germany inevitably realised he wasn’t about to show up at his bosses office and paid him a visit instead. It was an endearing enough thought, but if he was being honest he’d rather not deal with Germany at all today, which meant he should probably leave the house instead.

So eventually he settled on visiting his friend Jonas, a fellow musician working at the Volksoper. He had the day off if memory served, and he probably wouldn’t have any other plans today. They could go and enjoy the cultural beauty and grandeur of Vienna, he figured, before what was left of it disappeared as well.

With that settled, he went on his way, taking the tram to Leopoldstadt, where Jonas owned a small apartment. He tried his best to ignore the goings ons around him, as well as the headlines visible on the newspapers discarded on the tram floor, but he wasn’t particularly successful.

When he finally knocked on Jonas' door, his mood was worse than it had already been when he woke up. It didn't help that this district seemed an even worse mess than the others. You could probably cause an explosion from the tension here, he thought to himself. Not that Roderich was particularly surprised by that, everything considered, but that didn't make it sour his mood any less. Neither did his near run in with an angry police man or the nasty glances some people shot him as he walked past them. Jonas opened the door a bit more hesitantly and with a wearier look than usual, though his face brightened once he saw Roderich. Cheerfully he was invited inside and offered some tea.

When Roderich told him of his plan for the day, Jonas seemed more than happy to tag along. As he waited for him to get ready only a few minutes later, it occurred to Roderich that his friend probably needed the distraction too. So the two musicians went on their way, very much intending to avoid the grand events of the day. This ended up meaning they had to take more side allies than usual, but they didn’t mind much. Vienna had lovely side allies, anyway, so it wasn’t that much of a loss.

They ended up visiting the opera first, spending some time chatting with a handful of friends and acquaintances that were there despite, or maybe because, of the commotion on the streets. Roderich was half surprised that there would be a show that night, though he supposed he should have expected it. He was almost glad he wouldn’t be working on it though, somewhat of a rarity for him. Still, him and Jonas promised to return in the evening to attend the concert. At least that was something to look forward to, he supposed.

After leaving the opera, they had headed to one of the larger museums, intending to spend some time enjoying the pleasant art works there. It was technically closed today, but luckily for them Roderich knew people and it wasn’t hard to be allowed entrance anyway. They ended up having an overall pleasant conversation with Roderichs friend there, who ended up giving them a very enthusiastic lecture about Viennas architectural marvels. Later, Roderich could not for the life of him recall what had lead to this subject coming up in the first place, but he didn’t mind it much. He loved listening to people talk kindly of Vienna, loved the city itself dearly. Much as many of his people disdained the place, Roderich wouldn’t trade his capital for the world.

In the afternoon, after some more stops around the city, they settled down in a cafe and restaurant, where they had a late lunch as well as some lovely Viennese coffee and pastries to follow. All the while they chatted about this and that, even joking to each other. They had been doing that the whole day, joking about the whole situation they had found themselves in. Not that there was anything particularly funny about it, but somehow it made them feel better anyway.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice was reminding Roderich that this was not how things were supposed to go. That this was not how a nation ought to act. But Roderich decided to ignore it, as he had done many times before. He had not met his new ruler today, either one of them. He had not stood in a cheering crowd nor in front of one. He did not meet the personification of Germany, who surely, ever so loyally, had accompanied his people here. He did not wear any unifor, did not bear any weapon. He didn’t fight or plead or cheer or celebrate. And that was fine. Maybe that made him a bad nation, but he had long since stopped caring about that anyway.

And so, instead of acting like the nation or the diplomat he supposedly was, the musician Roderich Edelstein spent an overall pleasant day with is friend Jonas Holtzer, walking about Vienna, talking about arts and culture and pastires, telling jokes that weren’t really funny and enjoying himself. It was, so he reasoned, likely the last chance he would get to do so in a while, after all. And as they went back to the opera for the evenings concert, avoiding larger streets and entering through a side door, he had almost managed to banish the many troubling thoughts from his mind. Almost.

Roderich accompanied Jonas home after the concert was over. The sun had long since set and they both had reasoned it would be saver that way. He was almost surprised when they arrived at his apartment unharmed and having avoided any sort of confrontation. With the way his luck was going for, well, for a long while, really, he had half expected to end up in a hospital bed or jail cell before they reached the place. Not that he was about to complain, of course.

And they did take a diffeent, less convenient route than usual, which had likely helped in that regard as well. It also meant that they had taken longer than it otherwise would have to reach their destination however, long enough, Roderich realised, for the tram system to be shut down for the night. Even under the best of circumstances, the lonely walk home through the dark to his own apartment would have been a very much unwelcome thing to Roderich, but right now it seemed an outright terrible idea. Not that he thought taking the tram would have been much better today, admittedly, but still.

He felt a wave of relieve wash over him, thus, when Jonas offered for him to stay the night. He could sleep on the sofa, Jonas told him with a smile. Roderich agreed and thanked his friend wholeheartedly as they sat down for a cup of tea before lying down for the night. Neither of them was particularly eager to head to bed that night, but at least Roderich was tired enough to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow anyway.

Despite this, and despite the sofa being perfectly comfortable, Roderich didn’t get much rest, instead falling into an almost fitful sleep. He dreamt of empty galleries, silent concert halls and swastikas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roderich talks to Germany, reads his mail and recieves a visit from a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purpose of this story, I made up some human names for certain characters, which are basically OCs. I’m not even sure if they exist in canon or not, nevermind if they have canon human names. I haven't even seen any canon material for this show in, like, five years, nor do I really care at this point.
> 
> Anyway, for reference:
> 
> Karel Ján Dovřak – Czechia  
> Iva Alena Jánošik – Slovakia  
> Miran Maj Prešeren – Slovenia

**III**

Roderich Edelstein begrudgingly opened his eyes much too early the next morning to find that he was, in fact, still alive. He sighed at this revelation, and willed himself back to sleep. Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed in this endeavour, so he begrudgingly sat up instead. He had slept in his day clothes again, he noted absent-mindedly, though he supposed it was at least slightly more acceptable this time considering the circumstances. Still, he should probably get home and fix himself soon.

Jonas was already up when he made his way to the kitchen, sitting by the kitchen table and sipping coffee. He looked about as well rested as Roderich did, and even more dishevelled. His friend insisted he stay for breakfast before heading home, and so he did.

As he made his way to his own apartment some time later, his thoughts were buzzing almost enough to drown out the reality surrounding him. Almost. He wondered if his un-nation-ness had saved his life after all, or if his people were the ones keeping him alive now. Or maybe it was even that he wasn’t technically dissolved yet, but… occupied? Well something along those lines, anyway. He guessed he would have to wait and see how things played out. According to a newspaper he picked up on his way, their postponed election would be held in a month after all, so he supposed that was his last respite right there.

A much more pressing and acute concern he found occupying his mind was Germany, who was probably going to give him an earful the next time they met and who was bound to confront him sooner rather than later. Not showing up yesterday would inevitably get him into trouble too, and he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if the man were to literally drag him to their bosses. Roderich still didn’t want to deal with any of that, but he doubted he’d get a say in the matter.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat on edge by the time he reached home. Quickly picking up his mail, he took a deep breath and headed for his door. It was his home, there was nothing to get worked up about. Or at least that was what Roderich told himself as he took a closer look at the door and realised it was not only unlocked, but damaged. Great. That probably meant Germany had at some point yesterday or today decided to let himself in. At least it didn’t look like it was beyond repair, he figured, though that did little to ease his frustration. Honestly, didn't that man have any manners left? He supposed that was what you got if you let Prussia of all people raise a child.

  


Still mentally cursing Germany and his imbecilic brother, he entered his apartment and went to put the mail on the kitchen table to look over later. Just to find Germany there, sitting on a chair by his kitchen table, arms crossed and frowning deeply. Of course. It took Roderich all his self control not to sigh and bang his head against the closest wall in frustration. Of course Germany wouldn’t leave and come back later when he found the place to be abandoned, like a sensible person.

As he somewhat awkwardly moved to put the mail on the table, he tried to consider his options. Should he explain himself and apologise for his absence? Exchange pleasantries? Scold the man for breaking the door? He was admittedly in favour of the latter, though he wasn’t sure if that would be the wisest choice right now.

Before he had a chance to make up his mind as to whether or not starting an argument already would be worth it, the decision was taken from him as Germany spoke up.

“I was starting to think you deserted,” he said, in a tone that annoyed Roderich to an unreasonable degree “Especially after you did not meet up with us yesterday. Where were you?”

He didn’t even bother to say hello first. Heavens, he really did not have any manners left, did he? Roderich felt rather offended by this lack of civility, never mind the complete lack of an apology for damaging his door and intruding into his home. It managed to bother him much more than even the nonsensical accusation Germany had made. Though a small part of him did silently complain about that too, anyway. He wasn’t even a soldier after all, how would he possibly even desert?

He was about to say just that, and then berate his unwanted guest for his rude behaviour, when he thought better of it. Roderich was not exactly what one would call confrontational at the best of times, more the opposite if he was being honest, and he wasn’t good at confrontations either. And this sort of thing was just begging for an argument he had little chance of winning. Still, he couldn’t just let the situation go entirely uncommented either, could he? Not with this sort of disgraceful incivility. So after a few more moments of consideration, he settled on saying:

“Seeing as nobody requested my present and I had no scheduled plans for the day, I decided to use the opportunity to spend the day out with a good friend of mine. A human. Unfortunately we lost track of time a bit and seeing how late it was, he kindly allowed me to stay the night. I apologise, but I fear I hadn’t realised I was required to hand in written notice and a detailed schedule for my days off to avoid my door being damaged and my home intruded now.”

Germany only looked at him with slightly furrowed brows for a few moments, presumably thinking over what to say next. Roderich mustered his best glare in return, which was unfortunately a lot less threatening right now than it ought to be. Eventually, Germany informed him very seriously that he was not required to hand in a schedule – though a note would apparently be nice. Again, Roderich fought the urge to hit his head against the closest hard surface. Though he supposed this one was partly on him. He knew fully well that Germany probably wouldn’t understand the concept of sarcasm if his life depended on it.

And of course, now Germany also wanted to know what he was doing with this friend of his on such an important day that kept him from acting like a proper nation. He didn’t, Roderich noted, question his failing to do what was expected of him, and likely came as natural as breathing to most nations. So he supposed his reputation saved him from one uncomfortable question, at least.

Not that the actual questions were much better, exactly. As far as Roderich was concerned, watching paint dry for ten hours would probably have be above doing the “proper” thing in this case. In fact, it would likely beat a meeting with that classless, culture-less oaf and his company that were currently in charge of his nation at any other time too. And anyway, it was non of Germany’s business what he did in his free time, or with whom. He didn’t pry into his privet matters either, did he?

Of course, he couldn’t exactly say that. At best it would result in a lecture he did not want to sit through this early in the morning and at worst, well, he wasn’t entirely sure what his new bosses did with traitors, but he strongly doubted it was pleasant. So he settled on a probably only slightly less incriminating rant on the importance and grandeur of arts and cultures, and how he had spent the day enjoying them with someone who knew how to appreciate them properly. At some point he may have gone slightly off topic, but Germany didn’t stop him so he just kept ranting for a while.

Germany followed his rant with a mostly blank expression, only occasionally furrowing his brows or making a somewhat disapproving noise. Eventually Roderich decided he had dug himself into an aptly deep pit and stopped himself. He had probably said enough likely incriminating things to what was technically a state official for one day. So before he could mess up more dramatically, he asked Germany to leave, as politely as he could muster. To his surprise, it only took a few moments of hesitation for him to nod and get up, heading for the door.

As he left, he told Roderich that he would be back tomorrow and that he ought to be there then. Roderich wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or offended by the almost patronising tone of the other man’s voice as he said the last part. He hated not being taken serious or being looked down on, especially for his alleged non-nation-ness, but right now it might get him out of trouble so he should probably be glad about it, he supposed.

Still frowning, he went back to the kitchen to look through the letters he had received. Hopefully they would lift his mood somewhat, or at least provide a welcome distraction. Not very surprisingly, some of the other crown states – former crown states, now, he mentally corrected himself – had sent their condolences about the whole affair. Erzsevet, Karel and Iva, as well as Felix, Feliciano and Maj also wrote that they would come by some time during the next week or so to see how he was holding up. Non of them seemed to have any doubts about his survival, at least, so that was something he supposed.

As he looked the letters over, Roderich softly smiled to himself. As much as their people argued, as much as they argued amongst themselves even, he had and likely would always have a soft spot for them all. Despite their arguments, despite Roderich failing to grow into a proper nation along them, they were and would remain the closest thing he had to family. Not that he would admit so out loud. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he still had a nagging feeling that they didn’t actually care for him in return. It was irrational, he knew that by now, but the feeling just couldn’t seem to let go of him. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

But regardless what his siblings might think of him, or if they even considered him such, he would always consider them such. They had saved him and his people, had fought for them, on many occasions. They had been there for him, had helped him more times than he could count. All disagreements and oddities aside, he wouldn’t trade them for the world and he’d be thoroughly lost without them.

The prospect of losing them after the war had been utterly terrifying. He had been convinced that they would want nothing to do with him any more now that there was no reason for them to stay. That they really were only there because the other options were worse. And he could still remember the overwhelming feeling of relieve when he finally realised that he was wrong. His siblings had continued to be just that, and even if they disagreed on more things than ever, they remained close. It had been one of very few comforts in the last decades, knowing that they were there, would be there for him.

It took a while for Roderich to stop his musings and return his attention to the final unopened letter on the table. It didn’t have a stamp, which was odd. He supposed someone could just have dropped it off for some reason. It wasn’t exactly a secret where he lived, after all. Why someone would do that was a mystery to him though. As it turned out, the letter was from Mexico. Roderich could not for the life of him think of a reason what Mexico of all people would want from him, seeing as they had barely ever spoken with each other. And yet here was a short letter from the man, sending his sympathies and condolences. Apparently he considered his situation to be very relatable. For what reason Roderich had no idea, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. He should probably write him a letter back later to thank him for it.

First, he decided, he would play some music, though.

  


He was on his way to the kitchen later that day to make dinner for himself when there was a knock on the door. Before he had so much as a chance to answer it, it was roughly thrown open. Apparently Karel had decided that “within the next few days” meant “later today”. Not that Roderich was particularly surprised by that, if he was being honest.

His visitors expression turned from what Roderich thought might be concern to a wary grin when he saw him. He seemed to look Roderich over for a moment, before noting that the door was broken. As if he couldn’t tell that. Closing the door again and heading over to him, he asked what had happened.

“Guess,” Roderich answerd as he was almost dragged into a hug. As an afterthought he added, “You are staying for dinner?”

“Sheesh, already? What did you do mistreček, set fire to one of his manuals?” Karel replied with a raised eyebrow, “And yes, gladly.”

Roderich sighed, but a soft smile appeared on his lips nevertheless. It was almost impressive how easily Karel managed to have that effect. Of course, it helped that they shared a very similar sense of humour. “Heh, unfortunately not. I skipped our meeting yesterday, and the meeting with my new bosses, too. To be fair, nobody actually told me to be there or do any of that. And the opera was definitely much more pleasant.”

And so Roderich recounted his day with Jonas and his meeting with Germany the next morning, to a somewhat bemused Karel, who couldn’t help but note just how like him it was to ditch his boss for an opera. And how like Germany it was to break someone's door in and wait in their home for what may well be hours just to scold them for something.

While talking they had made their way to the kitchen, where Karel was quickly told that they would be having Apfelstrudel and that, since he was already here, he may well help prepare it, before Roderich just as quickly returned to the previous conversation. Karel rolled his eyes at this, but still went to cut some apples Roderich had just washed.

  


A while later, the two were sitting on the kitchen table, eating the freshly made Strudel with copious amounts of sugar on top. During a lapse in conversation, Roderich decided to ask his brothers opinion on his continued existence. Karel just raised an eyebrow at him and sighed, telling him not to worry about it. He would be fine, and that was that. How he could be so certain about that, Roderich had no idea. But it was somewhat comforting to hear his reassurances that he would not simply fade away one day soon. Though of course, that was far from the only way a nation, or at least one like him, could die.

Karel would have non of that though. He never had, really, he always seemed to have some sort of iron conviction that Roderich would be fine. And of course, they would be there to help if push came to shove. Where Karel of all people managed to get that amount of optimism from, he didn’t know, but it was kind of comforting nonetheless.

“We didn’t get you this far just so you can quit now, eh? I mean, who would we annoy if you weren’t there? Russia? Germany? I think not. I fear, mistreček, you are stuck with us.”, he told him, not for the first time.

Roderich gave a small smile and an amused huff in response, while he took another bite of Strudel. He really was lucky to have him, wasn’t he? And the others as well, of course.

The rest of the dinner was spent chatting about miniscule things. Eventually, Roderich went to put their dirty dishes into the kitchen sink, to be worried about later, and the two made their way to the living room. Karel, after sitting down, picked up a book that was lying on the sofa table before him. He turned it around in his hands a few times before asking Roderich how many now illegal books and record he thought he had stored here in plane sight.

Roderich frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Too many, I'd wager.” he said with a sigh, “I haven't actually checked yet. It's probably too late now anyway, seeing how Germany let himself in earlier today... Still, I can't exactly leave them here, can I? I couldn't bear seeing them ruined. I'll have to sort through everything tomorrow and see how bad it is. Lord help me if I know where to store them though...”

Karel gave him a sympathetic look and a light pet on the shoulder as he answered; “Well, I'd offer to store them for you, but to be honest I doubt it'd do much good. I'm pretty sure we're next on the hit list. Or pretty high up, anyway.” After a few moments of consideration, he added “I guess we could try storing them at the old place? I mean, it's abandoned and reclusive, not like anyone's going to be looking for it. Germany probably still remembers where it is, but we could probably figure something out. I suppose it'd beat hiding them at one of our places, anyway...”

  


Roderich stared through his hands as he considered the idea. It wasn't exactly the worst. Karel was right in that Germany probably remembered where their old place was. But Roderich doubted he would think of going there or even remember its existence if nobody outright brought his attention to it. Most of the other nations didn’t, especially not the Empires. It was probably because, unlike them, he had never really held meetings there. Most of the Austrian Empires meetings and things like that were held at Karels place instead. It was slightly smaller, but looked it looked the part of Empire much more than what the old place did. So while most nations knew where he lived, many of them had never even actually been to his nation house.

With that in mind, Roderich felt somewhat confident as he slowly nodded. The chances of Germany remembering the place was small enough for it to be worth a shot. What would still be a problem though was how he would explain a likely substantial amount of books, records and other things suddenly missing from apartment. Germany was going to notice that, he was pretty sure of it. And claiming he threw them away or the likes would probably not be a very believable claim. He supposed he could claim to have given it to Karel or one of the others for some reason. Not exactly the best excuse, but it might work.

He decided to ask Karel what he thought of the idea and furrowed his brow in thought. Apparently he thought it would work. Best to get Erzsevet to be the one instead of him though, he suggested. People tended to question her a lot less than him. Roderich supposed that was true.

With that apparently settled, Karel grinned slightly and added “You know, we might as well store away my soon-to-be-banned stuff there too, while we’re at it. The other’s too, if the want, just in case. I’ll ask them about it sometime soon.”

Roderich nodded with a frown. He wouldn't exactly be surprised if they found themselves in similar trouble to his very soon. Especially Karel, who seemed to have about as much faith in their allies among the League of Nations as Roderich had had. So considering they couldn't count on any sort of help, it was probably best to prepare for the worst. It would be a terrible shame if some of the things Roderich knew they all possessed were destroyed. Heartbreaking, really.

  


It was past midnight when Karel finally left, giving Roderich another half-hug and a soft slap on the back as he said his goodbyes.

Not before ensuring that Roderich would definitely be fine with Germany in the morning, and that he shouldn't stick around to make sure of it,  of course . Roderich sighed, but told him with a soft smile not to worry, promising to call him  sometime tomorrow, after the meeting was over . Or, if things really did go completely wrong, that he would call Erzsevet  immediately, as her number was quicker to dial.  He  didn't sound particularly confident as he said so, but Karel had still agreed to that arrangement with only a slight frown.

The moment Roderich closed the door behind his brother,  more troubling thoughts  returned to hi s mind at full force, almost ready to crush him beneath them. For a few moments he stood in the empty hallway, not sure what to do with himself. He considered playing the piano for a bit before going to bed, but eventually decided against it, seeing as Germany, unlike Roderich, was a very early riser and would surely show up at an unholy hour in the morning.

So, after ensuring that the still damaged door would stay more or less securely shut, he went and got ready for bed. Yet again, he found himself having trouble falling asleep. After a while of staring at the ceiling, he sighed and got up again. He went over to one of his shelves and looked at his collection for a bit before just grabbing a record at random. Mendelssohn it was, he supposed. Maybe some music would help him sleep, he thought, as he put it into the gramophone.

When he went back to bed, the melodies of Mendelssohn were filling the room, ever so slightly calming him. The music really did help, as music often tended to, whatever the circumstances may be, and Roderich soon found himself falling asleep, the wonderful melodies keeping him from the worst of his worries.


End file.
